Near to the house of the writer, stands a beautiful new church called St. George's. The lightning struck the upper part of the spire, and, descending, forced out the walls and carried down the bell and the clock, through the tower, to the ground floor. Massive stones fell on the small roofs on each side the tower, under which were stone staircases leading up into the gallery. The staircases were broken down by the crash, but the great roof of the building was only slightly injured, and the organ and the pews escaped. No person near the church or in the town was injured. The sexton had a wonderful escape. He went, whilst the storm was raging, to ring the eight o'clock bell, but feeling alarmed, he left the tower sooner than usual. He had only crossed the burialground, and was locking the iron gate of the graveyard when the lightning struck the spire! The hands on the dial of the clock pointed to eleven minutes past eight. Hundreds of people thronged to the spot that evening, notwithstanding the rain: and next day thousands visited the scene. A spirited subscription has been entered upon to repair the structure. The engraving represents the appearance of the edifice on the following day. During the raging of the storm no man felt bolder than his neighbour-all felt that they were utterly helpless, and in the hands of Him, for good or for evil, who doeth his pleasure among the armies of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth. Again we say-Happy they who can, under such awful visitations, recognize their interest in the protecting care and love of God their heavenly father. So may I sing in Jesus safe, Though fiery storms around me fall; AN American gentleman, perhaps a missionary, furnishes the following very interesting report of what he himself witnessed this year. Our young friends, on reading it, will find the names of many places mentioned in the Holy Scriptures. It was sent from Smyrna on the 25th of May, 1846, to the "New York Evangelist"- -an American religious newspaper. It may interest your readers to have a brief account of the annual visit of the pilgrims to the river Jordan. I say "annual," for it is a scene which occurs every year, and usually, I believe, on the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday next preceding Good Friday according to the Greek reckoning. I will tell you the story as it stands in my journal: April 13th.-This morning, at break of day, we rose and made preparations for a three days' trip to the Jordan and the Dead Sea. Our party, consisting of several groups, English and American, had agreed to meet near the garden of Gethsemane, at eight o'clock. We mounted our horses at seven, and turned into the "Via Sacra," along which, it is supposed, the Saviour bore his cross on his way from Pilate's Judgment Hall to Calvary. The whole city seemed to be in motion, all were pressing towards St. Stephen's gate. Individuals were firing their muskets, muleteers and camel-drivers were bawling at their beasts, and groups of Arabs, here and there, seemed to be throwing hard, angry, guttural words at each other, which I could not understand. For a fierce dispute, or an angry brawl, no language can compare with the Arabic. Its deep gutturals enable a man to belch up all his wrath. St. Stephen's Gate is on the eastern side of the city, from which the road leads down by a very rapid, zigzag descent to the valley of Jehoshaphat or Kedron. The bed of the Kedron is passed by a stone bridge of a single arch, not large. It has at present no water, but appearances indicate that a torrent does occasionally pass along its channel. A few rods from the bridge you come to the garden of Gethsemane, a small plot of ground, enclosed by a stone wall, and covered for the most part with an orchard of olive trees of great age, perhaps a thousand years old, perhaps more, perhaps less. Here we halted for our companions to come up. The Moslem tombs about the gate, and along the wall of the city, and the fences and grounds on each side of the way from the gate to this place, and even farther on, were all covered with men, women, and children, chiefly Moslems, who had come out to witness the scene. Some two hundred Turkish soldiers are usually furnished by the Pasha of Jerusalem for the occasion, to defend the pilgrims from the Bedouin Arabs. The morning was a lovely one, and the whole scene was very exciting. Here were two thousand or three thousand people, of all ages, colors, and conditions ; from almost every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people under the whole heavens, with every conceivable variety of costume. Some were seated on donkeys, some on mules, some on horses, some on camels, and more went on foot. The motley cavalcade took the road to Bethany, which winds along the western slope of Olivet for a while, and then turns to the east between Olivet and what is called the "Hill of Offence," where it is said Solomon built a heathen temple to please some of his idolatrous wives and concubines. On they went, extending through the space of at least three miles, in most sublime disorder, "rout on rout, confusion worse confounded." Our party had met for the purpose of riding in company. But we soon found we had undertaken an impossible thing. We were soon separated, and did not meet again till we reached the place of encampment "in the plains of Jericho." In about three-quarters of an hour we came to the village of Bethany, where Mary, and Martha, and Lazarus lived; where Jesus was wont frequently to enter from the city and spend the night, and where he "ascended" in view of his disciples, "till a cloud received him out of their sight." It is an interesting circumstance which I have never seen mentioned, that from the neighbourhood of Bethany, where Jesus ascended, you have a distinct view of the plain beyond Jordan, from which the prophet Elijah went up in his "chariot of fire." Soon after passing Bethany, we came into a region of "desert," that is to say, hills, mountains, and vallies, without tree, shrub, or blade of grass, or any green thing, save here and there the little, wax-like, sorrylooking shrub that camels feed upon when they cannot "do better." Occasionally, from the top of a hill, we could see the whole caravan "on its winding way." Here were long rows of camels, having four or five persons in something like crockery crates swung on each side, rolling up and down with the motion of the huge, homely beast, like a ship at sea. There you see men, and women, and children, swung in a similar manner on the sides of mules, and the little donkeys are seen everywhere, picking their way among huger beasts, and oftentimes carrying men who might in turn have carried them. In this way we "went down from Jerusalem to Jericho," and though we saw little companies of thievish-looking Bedouins watching us as we went along, no one dared to touch us. We were seven hours in reaching the "plains of Jericho." The mountains that skirt the plain on the west are not less than one thousand five hundred feet in height, and of fearfully rapid descent. We pitched our tents on or near the site of the ancient Jericho, about one hour and a half west of the river. The "Ghor," or Valley of the Jordan, is here some twelve or thirteen miles in width, for the most part gently sloping on either side toward the river. Having arranged our tents, and taken dinner, prepared by our Arab cook, we walked out to survey the region, and went as far as the fountain miraculously sweetened by the prophet Elisha, and which still bears his name. It sends forth a noble stream, and we can testify that its waters are to this day sweet and good. From this place we could look across the valley, and see where the Israelites were encamped "over against Jericho," on "the plains of Moab." At night, the whole encampment was surrounded by a guard of Turkish soldiers, who kept up a constant shout as they passed their watchword from one to another, so that sleep is quite out of question, except in short "Snatches." 66 April 14th.-At half-past two o'clock this morning the signal was given by the firing of guns, and the pilgrims began to move towards the river, some four or five miles distant. The heavens were perfectly serene. The full-orbed moon, half-way down the western sky, was shedding her silvery light over the valley, discovering the lofty outlines of the mountain of Moab," from whose summits Balak and Balaam must have looked down upon the "goodly tents" of Israel. Most of the pilgrims had started off before us-the plain, of course, furnished plenty of room, and there was no jostling one against another, as there had been the preceding day. We rode fast or slow, alone or in company, conversed or remained silent, as we pleased. While we were thus on our way to the banks of the Jordan, at or near the place where the children of Israel passed through on "dry land," an object presented itself which attracted other eyes than mine, and made every beholder speak of its beauty. It was the "morning star," which just at that moment rose |